


Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf? Not I.

by gremlins-came-and-got-me (Scared_Beings_in_the_Dark)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: (But not entirely Good Friend Scott either), (Canon compliant Kate Argent/Derek Hale), Biting without Asking, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Not Bad Friend Scott, Resolved in End Notes, Same with Stiles, Unresolved Issues During Story, mentions of rape/non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-04-05 08:15:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14040015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scared_Beings_in_the_Dark/pseuds/gremlins-came-and-got-me
Summary: From kchayes54's prompt: Big bad alpha bites stiles to force him into their pack as part of their "evil scheme". Through shear force of will Stiles chooses Derek as his Alpha, destroying big bad's plan and freaking Derek the fuck out when all the sudden he feels stile's wolf. Emotions, rescues, kisses, etc follow.





	Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf? Not I.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kchayes54](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kchayes54/gifts).



> I hope you like it.
> 
> Beta read by the enthusiastic [Venomousbaku](https://www.archiveofourown.org/users/VenomousBaku/pseuds/VenomousBaku)\--thank you so much!
> 
> **In this timeline:**   
> 
> 
> Peter bit Scott in sophomore year, went on his rampage, and was stopped the same way as in canon with one major exception: Derek offered Scott the chance to rip out Peter’s throat. Scott wasn’t able to do it, so Derek did it because Peter wasn’t going to stop. He was going to bite more people, kill more people. In fact, before he died, Peter killed an innocent, the child of a hunter who was on the fringes of the fire, at the base of the Nemeton.  
> 
> 
> Derek took the alpha power but did not bite anyone because he realized that he would turn into Peter, only seeking power and revenge, and he did not want that. Instead, he liquidated some assets and began rebuilding the old train depot, converting it into a series of low-income housing apartments.  
> 
> 
> Gerard came to town for Kate’s funeral, declared war on wolves, fought the Alpha Pack, and lost (i.e. dead in minutes, Deucalion wiping the blood off his hands). Deucalion, unable to locate the Hale alpha, was forced to face Jennifer Blake/Julia Baccari, who had been called by the Nemeton. She killed all of them, but expended her energy to the point that she died of exhaustion since there were no ready sacrifices left for her.  
> 
> 
> Things quieted down, and Scott learned how to werewolf from Derek. Scott’s relationship with Allison never recovered to the point that he could rekindle it, so he let Stiles tag along to his training, which is where he observed the fact that Stiles was seriously crushing on Derek. Derek dismissed his feelings for Stiles because a) Stiles was too young and b) the Sheriff (once he was in the supernatural know) would periodically threaten him with a wolfsbane bullet if he didn’t leave the teenagers alone.  
> 
> 
> The story starts during the spring before Stiles graduates from University of California, Berkeley.

~ * ~

This must be what Scott felt after Peter Hale bit him, Stiles thought dazedly. His side stung, aching with more pain than he’d ever felt in his life.

Stiles had been bitten. By a werewolf.

Stiles groaned, hunching over and limping as best he could back to Roscoe. He still needed to get somewhere safe. Somewhere that wasn’t the middle of the preserve.

He didn’t even know who had bitten him.

His money would have been on Derek except Derek had just acquired Boyd. There was no way he’d take on more than three new betas at a time, right?

Right.

Not to mention, Derek had been an alpha for five years without any rash decisions and sudden desire to bite people.

Stiles cranked on the engine, startling badly as it roared to life on the first try. Usually it took more muscle and at least a few turns of the key. And the engine wasn’t normally this loud.

Stiles poked at his side, hissing at the contact, but he knew, he could feel, the wound was already healing.

He wasn’t human anymore.

“Shit, fuck, fuck, shit,” he chanted under his breath, standing on the clutch while shifting into drive. This was not how this was supposed to go. Stiles was supposed to graduate _summa cum laude_ from Berkeley and work an entry level job until he could get a job in his field.

He wasn’t supposed to turn into a rampaging monster with no control once a month.

He wasn’t supposed to be like Scott.

Stiles needed help, but where could he turn? He and Scott had had a falling out over the summer, so he wasn’t an option.

Maybe he could talk to Derek? As an alpha, and as the one who’d tried to help Scott after he’d first turned, maybe he’d have some advice for Stiles?

It was worth a shot. Mostly because Stiles didn’t feel like going to his father and presenting his bloodied shirt and newfound senses.

Roscoe protested the turn off the preserve road, and Stiles patted at the dash, murmuring words of encouragement. This wasn’t the first time nor would it be the last time that Stiles took a corner on two wheels.

In fact, the very next one, heading toward the converted train yard, he yanked the wheel sharply, grinning at the way the Jeep tilted. Roscoe protested this turn just as badly, tires thumping back onto the pavement and jerking to the side.

Stiles corrected, patting the dash again.

He could see Derek’s “apartment” ahead. Derek was standing in front of the door, arms crossed over his chest. Stiles swallowed with a suddenly dry throat. He’s forgotten just how good Derek looked. Especially in those tight black jeans and that battered tank top showing off his muscled arms and spectacular chest.

Jesus, was that what arousal smelled like? Slightly sour and pungent with definitely no mistaking what his dick was trying to do. No wonder Scott never liked talking about it.

On the roof of the building, Derek’s new betas, kids Stiles had gone to high school with, were crouched, all three of them glaring at his approach.

“Easy,” Derek told them, waving at Stiles. Stiles parked, climbing out of Roscoe. He left the engine running and the door open in case he had to make a quick escape.

“Stiles Stilinski,” Derek said, a slow, easy smile spreading over his face. “What brings you to our home?”

“I know why,” Isaac Lahey, Derek’s first beta said. “It’s because he’s a wolf now too.”

Derek looked surprised at that, and then he sniffed loudly. Concern flashed across his face. “Who bit you?” he asked.

Stiles shrugged. “Some asshole, just now in the woods.”

Derek glanced over his shoulder, like he could see the preserve from here. “Were you followed?”

“No, I don’t think so. I mean, wouldn’t I be able to tell?”

“Probably not. I imagine your senses are still acclimating. You can see, hear, and smell better. But, there’s so many more things to draw your attention. The alpha that bit you is somewhere close by.”

“Why was I bitten?” Stiles asked. “I’m nothing special.”

“Really? Is that what you think?” Derek shook his head. “Stiles, you’d be the perfect choice for a werewolf. I think you could almost pass as a born wolf.”

“Really?” Stiles couldn’t help preening a bit at that praise, partly because of the sour scent of jealousy coming from Derek’s betas, and partly because it was Derek complimenting Stiles.

Derek flushed a little. “With proper training, any bitten wolf can become like a born wolf. Instinct can be taught.” He turned to Stiles. “Is that why you’re here? You want me to train you?”

“No. Well, yes. Maybe. I don’t know.”

“It’s a simple question,” Derek said gently. “Do you want me to help you or not?”

“Do you hate me?” Stiles blurted, and Derek frowned at him.

“What?”

“Do you hate me, you know, from high school. I wasn’t the kindest to you.”

Derek shrugged. “No one was. I’m not holding grudges, if that’s what you mean.”

“It kind of is,” Stiles said, and then, after a short pause, “Thank you. I think I’d like you to train me.”

“Okay. Do you want to start today or tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow please,” Stiles said. “I need just a bit more time to myself. I need to figure out how to tell my dad.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “This is going to kill him.”

“If things go bad for you at home, you’ll always have a place with us,” Derek offered. He shushed his betas’ growling. “Just because he smells like an invading alpha, it doesn’t mean you can treat him like an outsider. That isn’t our way. Got it?”

Before Stiles climbed back into Roscoe, Derek caught his wrist.

“If the alpha who bit you returns, call me. If you can’t use your phone, just howl. I’ll find you.”

“Thank you.” Stiles pulled his hand free, hoping that Derek either couldn’t hear or wouldn’t mention the fact that his heartbeat had started skipping at the contact. “I’ll do that.”

Boyd dropped off the roof as Stiles drove away, and in the rearview mirror, Stiles watched him hug Derek. Surprisingly, Derek accepted it.

Things had changed since high school. Maybe for the better.

~ * ~

Dad’s cruiser was parked in front of the garage when Stiles pulled in, and he sat in his Jeep for nearly half an hour, trying to work up the courage to walk in and just say, “Dad, I’m a werewolf.”

Dad had taken Scott’s transformation well years ago, but he had turned to Stiles and begged him to stay human.

Stiles poked his side. Not like he’d been given a choice.

Just as he finally started to climb out of Roscoe, his dad threw open the door and yelled, “Are you coming in or not?”

Stiles would have fallen, but he managed to catch himself. Dad raised an eyebrow at him. Stiles dusted himself off and followed Dad inside.

He waited until his dad was sitting down again, sipping at a non-alcoholic beer and watching a football game with half of his attention.

“So, I have some news,” he said.

“Does it have anything to do with the rogue alpha running around the preserve?” Dad took a long pull off his beer and completely ignored Stiles as he squinted at him.

“Maybe,” Stiles hedged. “Why? Is there another rogue alpha running around again?”

Dad pointed his bottle at him. “You tell me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Dad sighed. “Listen, Scott called. He said one of the packs up north got slaughtered. A group of hunters heading this way.”

“Huh,” Stiles said. Why hadn’t Derek mentioned that? Usually he was in the know.

“Yeah, apparently, they didn’t get the alpha and she escaped. Scott thought she was heading this way.”

“So, Scott told you all this.”

“Yep.”

“Why not me?”

“Honestly?” Dad began peeling the label off his bottle. It was his tell when he had to say something hurtful. Stiles waved at him, making an impatient get-it-over-with gesture.

“Fine. Scott said he and you haven’t spoken for almost a year. He didn’t know if he would be welcome or not.”

“This is his town too. He has as much right to it as I do.”

“Funny you should say that. He says you belong here and he doesn’t anymore. He also mentioned that Derek Hale might have something to do with that.”

“And what does Derek Hale have to do with Scott’s and my friendship?”

Dad shrugged. “I don’t know. I always thought it was suspicious the way I turned around and that man was skulking away from you. I almost arrested him half a dozen times before you graduated.”

Stiles barked out a laugh. “For what? More murders?”

“No. Stiles, it’s a dangerous adult that chooses to hang around underage kids.”

“Seriously? Derek? No. He wouldn’t. He never did.”

“Doesn’t mean he couldn’t have. Scott seemed to think there was something between you two.”

Stiles knew that. It was the crux of their falling out. Scott had accused him of hooking up with Derek behind everyone’s back. Stiles had laughed at him, demanding proof. Scott had looked at him and said, “You’re proof enough.”

Stiles couldn’t remember the rest of the argument, but he remembered yelling until his throat was hoarse and Scott had left town until things cooled down.

“Well, there wasn’t. And there never will be.”

“Just, be careful with your heart. I forget that you’re 21 now. You can do what you want, but I want you to be safe. It’s no secret that the people closest to Derek Hale end up dead or hurt. I don’t want you to be one of his casualties.”

Stiles scoffed. “As if I could be,” he said. He studied his dad for a long moment before shaking his head. He couldn’t tell his dad about his new werewolfism. Not after a discussion like that, and especially because he’d have to follow it up with “Oh yeah, Derek Hale promised to train me.” That’d go over well.

He leaned down to hug his dad, pressing his face into his thinning hair and inhaling deeply. Dad let him, his attention back on the television screen.

“I love you,” Stiles said, pulling back.

“Love you too, kiddo,” Dad said distractedly.

Stiles smiled fondly. Maybe someday he could tell his dad about the bite, but for now, all he wanted was to be the Stiles his dad knew. It was easier right now. Maybe he could talk to him after his first few full moons.

“’Night, Dad.”

“Good night, son.”

~ * ~

Stiles woke up in the middle of the night nowhere close to his bed where he’d definitely been at least two hours ago.

He sat up, staring around him in confusion.

How’d he move without waking up?

“Welcome, pup.” Stiles spun around, staring at the hulking shape of a shifted alpha werewolf. “Are you ready to kill?”

Stiles shook his head, hoping to wake up again. He slammed his hand into the ground, whispering, “Wake up, Stiles, wake up.”

“You are awake,” the werewolf said, amused. Her scent was rancid, old blood caked around her muzzle, dirt and loam trapped in her claws. Her musk was overpowering, and the more Stiles smelled it, the less he felt alarmed.

And that made him feel even more panicked.

“Where are we?” he demanded, scrambling up. She straightened too, shrinking down into her human form.

Stiles averted his eyes from her naked body, and she used the distraction of his embarrassment to grip him by his throat and throw him to the ground. “Submit,” she snarled, teeth sharp and pointy. Stiles flinched, reminded of a long-ago night when Peter had threatened him with teeth and death.

“No,” he said, tongue flicking out to taste the air. Her anger hung thick over him, and her hand tightened around his throat.

“Submit to me,” she growled. “You’re my beta. _I_ bit you. You’re mine!”

Stiles gurgled, trying to shake his head and her hand free. “I’m not yours,” he managed to rasp.

“Tell me, beta pup, whose are you if not mine?”

Stiles’ mind was blank, reeling. If he submitted to her, he’d be made to kill his dad. Did he have anyone else in his pack right now? Did Scott still count?

“Which alpha has been stealing my property?” The werewolf leaned down, her putrid breath choking Stiles as effectively as her hand. She sniffed at him, licking at the hollow of his throat.

Stiles drew a deep breath in when she pulled back, her hand lifting off his neck for a moment. Then, he arched his back and howled as loudly as he could.

When he finished, he saw her standing again in her shifted form.

She rolled her shoulders. “Cute. If you think someone’s coming to help you, you’re sorely mistaken.”

“Oh, I’m not counting on anyone coming,” Stiles said, false bravado in his voice. “I’m going to kill you myself.”

She laughed at him. “And how will you do that, pup? You haven’t even tried shifting yet.”

Stiles held up his hands, willing his claws to grow, disappointed when nothing happened.

“See?”

“I’m not your beta,” he said, defiant. Now that he wasn’t being choked, his mind spun through his options before settling on the one alpha he knew was still in Beacon Hills. “I’m Derek Hale’s beta.”

She scoffed. “That worm? I’ll crush him too.”

She strode forward, one claw coming to rest on his chin, drawing his head up lest he become impaled. “You will be my beta. You’ll replace the ones stolen from me. You’ll be my legacy. The havoc you’ll wreak will be miles wide. You’re my pup, mine to do with as I see fit.”

Stiles shivered at her words. He’d been possessed his junior year of high school, a demon loosed on Beacon Hills when Scott’s original alpha killed the wrong person at the base of an old tree stump.

It was a lot like this, he thought, controlled and forced to commit acts of atrocity that he could neither stop nor stomach.

“I won’t,” he said. “You’ll have to kill me.”

“Or I could just do this.” She pulled him forward by his t-shirt and stabbed her claws into the back of his neck. The pain made his legs crumple, and Stiles fell into a waking nightmare.

He was surrounded by a pack, with young and old faces that blurred and morphed from human to beta and back when he tried focusing on them. In the woods around them, he could hear twigs snapping and grass rustling. Something terrible was happening, and he was powerless to stop it.

The first flash grenade blinded him, and while he was clawing at his eyes, he heard several of the other wolves next to him fall, arrows embedded in their flesh.

A second grenade exploded next to his feet, throwing sparks onto his legs, burning away the flesh, eating at the bones. Wolfsbane-infused weaponry. Hunters.

The pack Scott had been talking about. The alpha that had bit him, that was trying to control him had lost her pack in a horrible, awful massacre.

No wonder she seemed half mad. Grief did funny things to a person.

Still, while Stiles now understood her insistence on him joining her pack, and her forcibly biting him, it did not mean he would help her.

Her fingers slid free from his neck. As they did, the vision ended.

Stiles fell to the ground, panting from the fading pain. He was healing slowly from where the alpha had gripped him, but at least he was healing.

Over him, he could see someone’s legs. It wasn’t the alpha’s since these ones were clad in skinny black jeans.

Stiles had seen those legs before. He’d drooled over them too.

Derek Hale was standing over him, fangs bared as he stared down the alpha.

“Get away from my beta,” she snarled, snapping her jaws and clashing her teeth.

“He’s not your beta,” Derek replied.

“He’s not an omega. Which means he’s mine.”

Stiles pushed himself up, standing behind Derek. “I’m not your beta,” he said, voice steady. He set his hand on Derek’s shoulder, feeling the muscles jump underneath his palm.

“He isn’t,” Derek agreed. “Get off my land or I’ll rip your throat out.”

“I’m going to enjoy ripping your entrails out.”

Derek growled, launching himself at the alpha. She swiped at him, catching his side and tearing it open.

The wounded howl Derek let out made Stiles’ heart stand still for a second, and then it spurred him to action. He ducked under Derek’s flailing claws and latched onto the alpha’s knee, ripping the kneecap off entirely.

She punched down, her fist catching the back of Stiles’ head, knocking him down into the dirt. He lay still, stunned, aware that the fight was continuing above him. He hoped Derek was winning. He didn’t want to be a pawn of a werewolf hell bent on revenge.

Derek howled again, and Stiles felt the same compulsion to rise and defend his alpha. Fortunately, he wasn’t the only one as he heard the answering howls of Derek’s other betas.

“You won’t win,” Derek said. “I have a pack; you don’t. You’re the omega here.”

“I’m an alpha, I can’t be an omega.”

“You’re stronger with a pack.” Derek stepped back, pulling Stiles with him. From the trees, the three betas moved forward, flanking the alpha. She was surrounded. “But without one, you’re an omega.”

“I’m an alpha!” The woman flashed her eyes, bright red, at them. Derek let his glow in response. His were impossibly brighter, stronger. On Stiles’ shoulder, Derek’s fingers flexed, digging in with human strength.

“You can be both,” Derek said quietly, and Stiles was reminded that it was only this year that Derek had begun taking on betas. For the five-odd years since Scott had been bitten by Derek’s uncle, he’d been alone aside from the brief training sessions he’d put Scott through.

All at once, the woman’s face shuttered, and she shrank down into her human form. “Please don’t let them find me. Kill me instead. I should have died with my pack. I shouldn’t still be here.”

“She bit you,” Derek said to Stiles. “It’s your choice. What do you suggest we do with her?”

“Will I turn back to human if I kill her?”

Derek shook his head. “I’m not sure where that rumor came from, but it holds the same merit as drinking from a water-filled print.”

“That is to say, full of shit.”

“If I kill her, then I’ll become an alpha. I’m not ready for that. Hell, I’m not ready to be a werewolf.”

“It does take time,” Boyd said, “but it’s also easier than you think. If you have the right alpha.” The look he gave Derek spoke volumes to Stiles.

“What if you were my alpha?” he asked. “Please? I saw how you trained Scott. I know you’d do the best you could. That’s all I want.”

Derek nodded, his hand extended to Stiles. When Stiles took it, a sharp look suddenly twisted his features. “How’d you do that?” he demanded.

“Do what?” Stiles frowned at him. “What’d I do?”

“You’re already my beta,” Derek said, eyebrows up, mouth down. “Can’t you feel it?”

Stiles shook his head. He didn’t feel any different now than he did shortly after he was bitten. He could feel the power of an alpha thrumming under his skin, but it hadn’t changed at all. He’d thought it was a direct result of having been bitten by the alpha, that he was feeling her influence.

“Wait,” he stammered, “does that mean I’m in your pack?”

The alpha leaped forward, landing between them, roaring in Derek’s face. Stiles recoiled, hands over his ears.

“My beta!” she screamed, her hand punched through Derek’s chest. Derek grunted in pain, blood already on his lips. “Mine!” She used her other hand to draw her claws across Derek’s throat. She scored it shallowly, but still blood ran down, dripping across his skin.

Stiles saw red, barely aware that his fangs had dropped and that he was curling hands with claws instead of fingernails.

Neither he nor the alpha quite realized it when he reached up and tore her throat out.

Derek flinched when the spray of blood hit his face. He flinched again when the alpha’s hand pulled free from his chest as she collapsed.

The power that came when the light finally faded from her eyes was unwelcome. Stiles covered his eyes, shaking his head. He bit back the panic crawling up his throat. He couldn’t be an alpha. He didn’t have a pack anymore. He couldn’t still be in Derek’s. And his dad would probably disown him if he ever found out that he’d killed someone, no matter that it was done in self defense.

“Derek, I need help.”

He glanced up, peeking through his fingers to find Derek directing the betas to take the alpha’s body away.

Derek moved forward, opening his arms. Automatically, Stiles stepped into them.

“I’ll still help you,” Derek promised. “I won’t let you go through this alone. You’re still welcome in my pack if you want to be here.”

“What if I still want you to be my alpha? Is that possible?”

Derek thought about it before nodding. “I guess. The pack of alphas had that hierarchy even though they were all alphas. The only thing that you can’t overstep is when I’m working with my betas. They are my responsibility, and they have their own autonomy inside and outside of the pack.”

“And what happens if I fall in love with you?”

“What?”

“Love,” Stiles repeated. “I love you.”

Derek made the same face from before, with his eyebrows raised and his mouth pulled down. “Love?” He cocked his head before nodding in understanding. “That makes sense.”

“What does?”

“The way you smell around him, like you’re always a step away from either popping a boner or throwing yourself at him.”

Stiles stepped back from Derek, turning to glare at Isaac.

“You always stunk like that particular mix in high school. But, I guess now you can smell your own arousal.” Isaac shrugged. “Maybe now you’ll actually do something about it.” He waved at Derek. “Come on, Alpha, he just confessed to being in love with you. Celibacy is overrated.”

Derek growled low in his chest, and Isaac grinned as he vanished into the trees.

“So that just happened,” Stiles said when Derek turned back to him.

“Yes.” Derek frowned down at his feet. “I have a confession to make as well.”

He opened his mouth several times, a few false starts, and then clamped his mouth shut, refusing to speak.

Eventually, Stiles shook his head and started back toward his father’s house, aware now of how he was only dressed in a t-shirt and his boxer shorts. _And_ he still had the alpha’s blood on him.

Derek huffed and followed him. “This is difficult,” he said after a dozen paces. Stiles glanced around and then focused on the ground in front of him. He could see it perfectly—thanks, wolf-vision—but he wanted the excuse of not having to respond.

Derek sighed again. “I’m sorry. It’s just, it’s been so long since I was in the position to be in a relationship, much less one that wouldn’t have a high return of pain.”

“Pain?” Stiles stopped, swinging around to stab a finger at Derek’s chest. “What about me says I’m going to cause you pain?”

“Everything about you dictates pain,” Derek told him. “Pretty sure my ribs are still healing from having a freaking hand punched through me.”

“Whatever.”

“No, not whatever. Stiles, listen. I’m sorry that I’m not responding the way you need me to right now. I need you to understand where I’m coming from.”

“So explain. Don’t just say you have something to say and then not say it.”

“I’m not good at explaining this part,” Derek said. “I haven’t had to do it much. And usually, it’s a little like word vomit.”

“Try me.”

Derek took a deep breath. “I was raped by my first official girlfriend, who turned out to be a hunter trying to get information about my family, which she succeeded at because of me. She set my house on fire and killed most of my family. My uncle killed my sister and then tried to kill me. I killed my uncle.”

Stiles had known about Peter killing Laura for the alpha power, and he knew about Derek killing Peter. He’d also known about Kate Argent’s involvement with the Hale fire, but he hadn’t known that Derek was dating Kate or that she’d raped him.

“I haven’t been in a relationship since then. It’s been almost twelve years now.”

“Aren’t you 26?”

“Will be.”

“So, twelve from 26 gives me fourteen.” Stiles stopped moving. “You were fourteen when your family was murdered.”

“Yeah.”

“No offense, but you seem, like, way older than 26 right now.”

Derek laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Tragedy will do that,” he said. “I haven’t felt ready to try dating again yet.”

“And you’re ready now?” Stiles asked, holding his breath.

Derek caught up to him, hand warm on his side as he guided him backward toward a tree. Stiles leaned against it, the bark scratching his skin where his shirt was riding up.

“For you, I’ll try.”

That was something with which Stiles could work.

He surged forward, smashing their mouths together.

Derek drew back, smiling amusedly down at him. “You’ve been waiting a long time to do that, haven’t you?”

Instead of answering, Stiles kissed him again, biting at Derek’s lower lip until he opened his mouth.

Stiles expected to be pushed off, to have Derek change his mind, but instead he got tongue. A lot of it.

He smiled against Derek’s mouth. “I get custody on Fridays,” he said.

“We’re not sharing my betas until you’re trained,” Derek countered, pulling back.

“Fair enough. How about we start with learning control in the bedroom?”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“I think you mean ‘encourgeagable.’”

“Is that even a word?”

“It is now.”

“Fine,” Derek acquiesced. “You’re encourageable, especially with rewards.”

“So reward me, big guy.” At Derek’s raised eyebrow, Stiles asked, “What?”

“‘Big guy’? Really?”

“Well, what else would you like me to call you?”

“How about my name?”

“Okay, Derek, how about we take this somewhere with a bed?”

Derek smiled. “But first, let’s get cleaned up.”

“Sounds good.”

~ The End ~

**Author's Note:**

>  **What happens after the story?**  
>  Stiles and Derek go to Derek’s apartment where they clean up and Stiles falls asleep on Derek’s bed while Derek takes the couch. The next day, Derek takes Stiles to see his father and explain about the changes in Stiles’ life. The Sheriff takes it well, proving that Stiles’ fears were unfounded: his father loves him unconditionally.  
> 
> 
> Derek and Stiles discuss at length where they’re willing to take their relationship, moving at an acceptable pace for both of them.  
> 
> 
> Scott returns to Beacon Hills (at Derek’s request) and reconnects with Stiles. Scott was only trying to prevent Stiles from making a bad decision in high school, and once he’s observed Stiles with Derek, he agrees that they will be good together.  
> 
> 
> Stiles does indeed steal the betas on Fridays (but they only go dancing or hang out. No real mischief). And Stiles learns prefect control. With such a good teacher and a fantastic reward system in place, who wouldn’t ;)


End file.
